


Renewal

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Let's Get Gay Married Commentfic Meme, M/M, Married Couple, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:45:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just before the end of "The Voyage Home." Spock and McCoy ponder how the whole "'til death do us part" applies to them. (Assuming that they got married sometime between the first two films.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renewal

McCoy is watching the sunset from his favorite park bench overlooking the Bay, when Spock comes up behind him. He doesn’t hear Spock approach, but he stops feeling the breeze against the back of his neck, and his skin prickles. McCoy hunches in his windbreaker, his elbows on his thighs, and stares at the water. The waves are black and bronze in the dying light. There are no whales to be seen, but he imagines the two of them swimming along together, crooning to each other as they try to figure out what the hell just happened to them.

“Doctor,” Spock says.

McCoy doesn’t look up. “Have a seat, if you like,” he says with a shrug.

A moment later, the breeze is flicking at his collar again and Spock is seated beside him, his hands curled loosely in his lap, their shoulders not quite touching. Spock is wearing his maroon uniform, complete with jacket and boots. He looks very formal. It’s quite a change from how he looked earlier today, when Starfleet fished him, McCoy, Jim and the rest of them out of the Bay. McCoy recalls the way Spock looked in his sopping wet white robes, his ink-black hair plastered to his cheeks, and a smile touches his lips.

“You have other clothes, you know,” McCoy says. “Back at ou – back at the apartment. I didn’t do anything with them after you … you know.” He studies his fingertips; the skin around his nails is starting to redden with cold. He really shouldn’t stay out here much longer. He isn’t young anymore; he can’t take the cold like he used to. Addressing his fingertips, he adds, “I guess I would’ve eventually, but there wasn’t time then. And I had … other things on my mind. I had _you_ on my mind. Literally!” The last word jabs from his lips, unintentionally sharp.

“Yes.” Spock’s voice is low. Out of the corner of his eye, McCoy sees him twist his fingers. If it were anyone else in the world – anyone else in the _galaxy_ \- McCoy would call it a nervous gesture.

“It has occurred to me,” Spock says slowly, “that …what you did for me, you did without my asking. It is something I forced upon you and, from what Jim has told me, it caused you considerable inconvenience.”

McCoy snorts a laugh. “‘Considerable inconvenience’? S’pose that’s one way of looking at it. Don’t worry about it. I might try to get a few digs in, but I’m not angry. If you’d asked, I’d’ve said yes, and it’s not like you had time to explain what the hell you were doing.”

“No,” Spock says, still suspiciously quiet. “But there was ample time on Vulcan and afterward to say ‘thank you.’”

McCoy glances up at his face. He catches the dark glimmer of his eyes, the thin line of his mouth, and then he has to look away again. Above the waves, seagulls scream and soar. They wouldn’t know a whale if they saw one, he thinks somewhat inanely.

 _I should really get inside._

“You don’t have to say anything.” McCoy’s throat is dry suddenly; his voice crackles. “You never did. I’d’ve done it…” He lets the air go out of his lungs. Rubbing his hands together, trying to generate some warmth, he says again, “I’d’ve done it anyway. Let’s just leave it there.”

To his surprise, Spock says, “I cannot.” He turns and catches McCoy’s hands between his warm palms. The sudden and unexpected contact sends a jolt through McCoy. He doesn’t look up, but focuses on the long, elegant fingers resting against his own.

Solemnly, Spock says, “It has taken me some time, but I _do_ remember what we were to each other before my death. I do not remember everything, but I know that we exchanged vows.”

McCoy tries and fails to gather sufficient air into his lungs. “Was gonna talk to you about that,” he mutters. “When you felt more like yourself. When the Earth wasn’t in danger. I’m not sure what we are now. There’s that line, _’Til death do us part._ But it didn’t. So I’m not sure what that makes us.”

“I do not know either,” Spock says, frank and honest.

“Probably isn’t any precedence. Outside science fiction and fantasy.”

“Indeed. I would think not. However, if the uncertain nature of our relationship troubles you, I would not be averse to repeating the ceremonial ritual that bound us legally in the first place.”

Because it’s been a long damn day and because Spock is still holding his hands, it takes McCoy a moment to parse the meaning from his words. When he does, his eyes go wide. “You mean – you want to renew our vows? Spock, are you _sure_? You don’t want to think about it? You _died_. You’ve been…” With his chin, he gestures vaguely in the direction of the darkening heavens. “And you want to go back to the way we were before.”

“Not go back,” Spock says. “Re-affirm what we were, and proceed.”

“But _Spock—_ ” He isn’t cold anymore, he’s noticed. He isn’t tired. He feels like he might be losing his mind, but he’s definitely warm and awake.

Spock lifts one hand and lets it rest against the side of McCoy’s neck. Their eyes meet for the first time; Spock’s crinkle slightly at the corners.

“Well, all right,” McCoy says, “if you’re sure.”

“I am sure.”

McCoy threads their fingers and turns so he can lean against Spock. The hand on his neck drops to his shoulder, and then Spock has him in a loose, one-armed embrace. Sighing, McCoy lets his eyes close; he can still feel the last rays of daylight against his lids.

“It probably _is_ a good idea, renewing our vows. Don’t want any little technicalities like death getting in the way of our conjugal visits. That’s assuming I end up in jail for stealing the _Enterprise_ with Jim and the rest.”

“Indeed. That would be most inconvenient.”

“Which? Me getting thrown in prison, or you not getting to visit me there?”

When Spock has been enigmatically silent for too long, McCoy elbows him. Still, no answer is forthcoming, and eventually McCoy gives up.

They sit together on the bench, sharing warmth, not speaking while the sun melts into the sea. When the wind picks up and the stars come out, Spock says in McCoy’s ear, “Shall we retire to our apartment?”

The _our_ causes McCoy’s heart to stutter. Keeping his fingers laced with Spock’s, he shakes his head. “Eventually,” he says. “For now, we’re good right here.”

6/27/2011


End file.
